One Night to Dance

This story contains scenes of nonconsensual, reluctant sex. Proceed with caution.

*

Gabe stood in the bathroom of the gas station around the corner from his house, washing the girl's jizz off his face, wondering what the hell he could possibly tell his wife. Maybe he could get away with just not saying anything, but no, he was gonna be nearly two hours later than he said he'd be, he had to account for that.

He hadn't wanted it, hadn't wanted any of it. Would Meg believe it? Did Gabe believe it himself? He'd kept saying things like "no" and "stop", but no matter what she kept pushing, and... eventually he had relented. Given himself to it. He felt ashamed, unspeakably dirty. He hadn't been strong enough; physically, yes, clearly, the girl had been able to overpower him. But emotionally too, he'd been weak, he'd let himself enjoy it, even somehow found enjoyment in her shoving her cock up his ass... What did that say about him? What even was he now?

God, everything was so fucked. He loved Meg so much, didn't want to do anything to betray her. They'd been together seven years now, been married five, and they had a beautiful four year old girl. Everything had been going smoothly.

The only thing he really missed anymore was dancing, being at a dance club, losing himself in the music and the rhythm and the heat of all the bodies around him. He had dragged Meg out with him just the once, not long after they'd met, and she couldn't bear it, her sensory processing issues made the dance club hell on earth for her, too much noise, too many people, too much stimulation.

And that was fine. It was a thing for younger men, really. The club was a cesspool of every temptation a man in a serious relationship, much less a father, should be trying to avoid. And since he'd started working full time at the grocery store, he worked early basically every Saturday and Sunday, and most Fridays too for that matter, and so there were no opportunities to go out. Gabe mostly didn't mind. His duties mattered more than his personal hedonism.

But then out of nowhere, one week in mid-April he got a random Saturday off. And naturally the first thing he did was ask Meg if he could have the night to go out.

He was prepared to have to convince her, he had arguments planned and everything, but what he hadn't accounted for was Meg just saying, "Okay," immediately, but looking away and sounding uncertain while she did it.

Alright, clearly he'd have to massage this. First instinct was to say something like, "You sure?" but no, he definitely didn't want to give her an opportunity to take it back, so instead he put a hand on her shoulder and, tenderly, said, "Thank you. This means a lot to me."

"I know," she said, still looking off to the side.

"You'll be fine alone with Kaylee?"

"Yeah, yeah... for sure."

"Okay..." He could have just stopped picking at it, but, "It seems like something's troubling you."

Meg inhaled deeply and then exhaled. "I just... I don't know, I want you to have this, I know how much you want this." She looked up at him, finally, a small grin on her face, though her blue eyes definitely had a sadness in them. "Since you talk about dancing, like, constantly."

"Huh," said Gabe, "do I really? I thought I mostly kept it to myself..."

"Nah, it comes up a lot," she said, a knowing look on her face. "I don't know, I just... I want you to have this, I do, I just feel weird about you being out there alone all night."

"Well," Gabe stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, "you could come with me? We could get a babysitter you know."

She sighed against his chest. "You know I can't, it'd be too much for me." She hugged him back. "Just... come back to me, okay?"

"Of course," he said.

"Lot of temptation there," muttered Meg.

"Not for me," Gabe said, and he meant it (God, here in the gas station bathroom, the memory of himself saying that stabbed at him).

She rubbed the side of her face against his chest. "I know." (God, she really trusted him, didn't she? He had thought he deserved that trust.) "I just worry."

"I'll have my wedding ring on," Gabe said.

"Sweetheart," Meg started, "there's a lot of women that wouldn't matter to. There's a lot of women who'd see that as a challenge."

Gabe snorted. "Like I'm some great catch."

"Hey," Meg tilted her head up to kiss him on the chin, "you're my great catch."

"Well then," he brushed the side of her face, "I'm lucky to have someone who thinks so."

She gave him a peck on the lips. "And don't forget it."

Gabe believed Meg when she said she found him attractive, but he never felt it. His features were very feminine, all soft and rounded, his body willowy, unmuscular. He had hoped that the grocery store work might build up his muscles, given that he was on his feet all day, moving heavy boxes. But while he seemed to have gotten stronger he was no less wiry. He felt comprehensively unmasculine, and while Meg was into it for some reason, he had no reason to think other women would be.

Which was part of why Iris caught him so off guard. Of course she had caught his eye, that was inevitable, she was a striking figure; tall, taller than him, taller than every other girl on the floor and most of the men, close cut blonde hair, enormous grin that seemed to take up her whole face, clad only in a skimpy green top that didn't cover much more than the bra area, tiny little black booty shorts that showed off her big ass jiggling as she twerked...

But the crazy thing was that for some reason he had caught her eye; Gabe noticed very distinctly as she did a double take at him, then turned her body toward him and lifted a beckoning finger toward him. Unthinking, Gabe found himself walking across the floor toward her.

As they danced, he found himself bewitched by her, but he couldn't help thinking at all points what Meg might say if she could see him. Obviously she knew he was going to a dance club, so obviously it was fine to dance with other women. When Iris started rubbing her butt on his crotch, well, that was probably more questionable, and he wasn't proud of it but it took him until his cock was starting to get hard to pull away from her. As he was walking away, though, the girl grabbed his hand and pulled him in tight against her body, wrapping her arms around him to hold him in place. God, his cock was rock hard by now, burning against the fabric of his jeans, electrified by the pressure of her upper thigh pressing into it.

"Where ya goin' cutie?" she said into his ear, sliding one hand down the front of his body. "We're just getting to the fun part." Her hand reached his hard cock and gave it a squeeze.

"Ahhhhahahh..." Gabe let out a trembling exhalation at the touch, "I'm sorry, this is going to far. I'm married..."

"Me too!" the girl said brightly. "C'mon, nothing serious is happening, we're just having some fun, yeah?" The hand still on Gabe's back slid down his body to give a sharp grab on his asscheek.

"Ah!" He jumped at that. "Sorry, I... I can't. You're very pretty, I just can't." He backed away nervously. The last he saw of her before he turned away was her making an exaggerated frown at him.

Except of course that wasn't the last he saw of her. As he worked his way through the dance floor, everywhere he looked there she was again, staring intently at him, beckoning him to come back to her. He kept slipping away. Eventually he made his way back to the bar, ordered a beer, and sat there sipping on it for a while. Meg had told him to be home by midnight, but he might need to get out of here sooner than expected. He had thought that just not trying to chase any women would be enough to avoid a situation like this. Most women weren't so aggressive in chasing men, certainly not a man like him.

He felt a tap on his right shoulder and looked to the right. No one there. Immediately after, a hand tousled the hair on the back of his head, and he spun his head around to see the short-haired girl sitting on his left side. She grinned eagerly at him.

"Hey baby!" she said loudly, to be heard over the pounding music. "You wanna buy me a drink?"

"No," he said flatly.

She made the same exaggerated frowning face at him. "Well, can I at least try some of that?" and she pointed at his beer.

He shrugged and passed her his glass. She took a big gulp from Gabe's glass and immediately scrunched her face up. "Ew! What is that?"

"It's an IPA," Gabe said, a little defensively.

The girl handed it back to him, face still curled in an expression of disgust. "You like that?"

He shrugged. "It's an acquired taste."

"Well I don't like it." She stroked Gabe's shoulder. "You should get me something sweet and fruity."

"I'm not getting you a drink," Gabe said firmly.

"Well... maybe your next drink could be something sweet and fruity, and you can share it with me," the girl offered.

"Men don't drink fruity drinks," Gabe replied.

The girl raised an eyebrow at that. "Why not?"

"I dunno. Just," Gabe shifted uncomfortably on his barstool, "it's considered unmanly, kinda gay."

"Ohhh what are you scared of, you'll look gay and so none of the girls here will wanna fuck you?"

"Stop it," Gabe said, glaring at his beer glass.

"Oooh, or the men will all think it's open season on your ass and they'll take you back and run a train on you!" She seemed weirdly delighted by the idea.

"I said stop it," Gabe grumbled.

"C'mon, live a little. Get something yummy to drink, I can be your excuse, we can share it." At this point she put an arm around his shoulder and ran her fingernails up and down his upper arm. "Hey, you ever had a Mai Tai?"

Gabe shook his head.

"Get us a Mai Tai, it's good!"

It turned out that Gabe did like the Mai Tai, considerably more than he liked the IPA actually, all sweet and citrusy and minty. It was also, he quickly realized, way more alcoholic than expected. The first couple sips had his head feeling all swimmy. "This is really good!" he blurted out to the girl.

"Yeah?" She took a sip. "You're welcome."

Gabe scoffed at that. "You're welcome. Gimme more of that."

"My name's Iris," she hollered into his ear. "I share a house with a bunch of girls who go to Wahdolee State."

Gabe nodded, then frowned. "What about your spouse?"

Iris seemed perplexed. "What spouse?"

"You said you were married."

Iris blinked a couple of times, then burst out laughing. "Oh yeah, I made that up, I'm not married."

Gabe squinted at her, a smirk tugging at the side of his mouth. "Why did you lie?"

Iris shrugged. "You said you were married, wanted to be more relatable."

Gabe just shook his head. "You're crazy."

"And so tell me about yourself, what's your name, what do you do?"

"Name's Gabriel," Gabe said (he usually didn't go by his full name, but he figured he should maintain a certain formality with this girl who was clearly still trying to get under his skin). "Work in a grocery store, in the bakery. Training to be a cake decorator."

Iris seemed delighted by this information. "You're a cake decorator?"

"Training," he said.

"And you were worried you'd look gay for ordering a fruity drink? That's one of the gayest jobs I can think of."

"Shut up," he said, but he couldn't help grinning.

"Like, damn dude," Iris went on, "does your husband know you're at a straight bar?"

"My wife is beautiful, I'll have you know."

"Yeah? Is she prettier than me?" Iris asked.

Gabe glanced over at her. After all their time together, he was still very attracted to Meg, but this girl... God she was stunning. He wanted to just say, "Yes," simple as that, but he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"You're, uh, comparable," he said, staring at his beer glass.

Iris leaned in so her mouth was right against Gabe's ear. "Liar."

Gabe rolled his eyes. "Whatever. You don't know my thoughts." He grabbed the Mai Tai and took another sip. God, that was delicious.

"I do actually," Iris said smugly. "It's written all over your face that you wanna fuck me."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Gabe shot back, noticing as the words came out that his speech was slurred. He was more drunk now than he'd wanted to get, goddammit.

The thought occurred to him, though, that since he was talking about decorating, that he should see if he could make Iris a customer. "I've been tryin' ta," he reached into his pocket for the little business cards Meg had made for him, "do some cakes for people on the side, you know? Basic stuff, obviously. Make some extra money." He handed her the card. "Any of your friends graduating this year?"

She shook her head, but she took the card, studying it closely. "Gabriel Prince, huh? Is that your maiden name, or did you take your husband's?"

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"Well hey Mr. Prince," she went on, "maybe I'll have you decorate my twenty-first birthday cake in a couple months."

He nodded vaguely, then blinked. "Wait, so you're not-"

"Nope! You've been serving alcohol to a minor, you scoundrel," she said, grinning smugly at him.

Oops. He shook his head. "Don't say you're a minor though, you're not a minor if you're twenty, just underage."

"Same difference right?"

Gabe shook his head again. "Nope, big difference." He took another sip of the Mai Tai. He felt his stomach gurgle. His bladder, he suddenly noticed, was full, about ready to burst. "Hey," he turned to her, "do you know where they keep the bathroom in this establishment?"

"Why?" Iris seemed concerned now, "you're not about to puke, are ya?"

"Nah, just need to piss," he said.

"Aww, c'mon baby," Iris ran a coaxing hand across his upper back, "you don't wanna break the seal, right?"

"I swear that's the dumbest concept, 'breaking the seal,'" scoffed Gabe. "Like... of course pissing once is a prerequisite for pissing multiple times, you can just stop after the first one if you want. Anyway," he shook his head, "I'm done drinking for the night."

"What? You haven't finished either of your drinks. You're a fuckin' lightweight dude," Iris said, amused, mocking grin on her face.

"I had a couple beers when I got here, wanted to loosen up before dancing," Gabe said. "You can, uh," he gestured vaguely at the drinks, "go for it."

Iris grabbed the Mai Tai and greedily poured the remainder into her mouth. "You're gonna have to finish that one though baby," she said, pointing at the beer.

He shook his head. "Don' want it."

"Mmmm," Iris had a warning tone, "there's a special place in Hell for people who waste alcohol."

"There's a special place in Hell for people who drive drunk," Gabe said flatly. "And I've gotta be out of here in," he looked at his phone, "shit, an hour."

"You should finish it now then," Iris said, "so that it'll have faded a little by the time you've gotta drive."

Gabe shook his head, but... he looked at the beer and he was kind of tempted by her logic, hopefully it would have faded in a couple hours...

"Come onnnn, do it!" Iris insisted. "Do it do it do it!"

He relented, picked up the glass and chugged the rest of his IPA down. "Alright," he said, and he slid off the stool onto his feet, "time to- Whoa!" he lost his balance taking his first step forward, arms flailing for a second before he caught the barstool he'd been sitting on to brace himself. Motor functions were failing him. Sheepishly he looked up at Iris. "Can you show me where the bathroom is?"

"Sure thing baby!" Iris said brightly. She got up to her feet and stuck out a hand to help him stand back upright, then wrapped an arm around Gabe to prop him up.

"I don't need-" he muttered.

She cut him off. "Yeah ya do." She planted a kiss on his temple. To his shame, his cock moved a little at that. "C'mon, let's get you to the bathroom."

They worked their way from the bar area toward a skinny little hallway on the side of the dance floor. Once they were in the hall, and the noise of the bar was a little distant, Iris said softly into his ear, "You know they have a handicapped bathroom, right? Big open space, with a locking door."

"So?" grunted Gabe.

"So I was thinking," Iris said, and then threw his body against the wall, pressing herself against him tightly, before continuing, speaking right into his ear, "that it would be a perfect place to do something your wife wouldn't approve of."

"St- stop it, get off me," Gabe protested. He could feel his cock rapidly getting harder. Dammit.

"Why?" Iris gave him that frown again. "I think I know you want me. Hmmm," she pressed her thigh hard into his stiffening cock, "I can feel how much you want me."

"I can't... I can't," Gabe sputtered.

"You can do anything you want baby! Hmm," she nibbled on her lower lip. "You wanna choke me with that thing in your pants?"

"N... no." He paused for a moment. God, he was tempted, and he was pretty sure Iris could tell, she was staring into his eyes with this eager hungry look, as if she was feeding on the desire he felt for her. He opened his mouth again to say, "No, I don't wanna do anything with you, I-"

And here Iris pressed her lips over Gabe's open mouth, stuffing her tongue inside, searching for his tongue and teasing it until, despite himself, his tongue rose to press against hers. She pulled her face away from his, and without really intending to, he caught himself moving his head forward to chase her mouth. Iris' eyes flashed triumphantly at him, and she shot him a smug grin.

"Liar," she brushed his cheek with her hand, "you do want me."

"Well," he felt like he was blushing, "I'm not going to do anything with you."

"Liar," she said again. She moved in for another kiss, but he tilted his head down so she missed his mouth, instead hitting his forehead.

"Believe what you want," he said, "but you're going to be disappointed."

"Whatever you say baby," she murmured. "Do one thing for me though?"

He sighed. "What?"

"Could I watch you piss?" she asked, eagerly.

He let out an odd tense giggle at that. "Why... why do you even want that?"

"I dunno." She looked away, seeming for the first time almost bashful. Gabe couldn't help finding it cute. "I guess, you know, you've been rubbing it on me all night-"

"You've been rubbing yourself on it, you mean."

"-And I guess I wanted to at least see it, like, in action. If, you know, you're dead set on not letting me play with it."

"Kay," Gabe said, sucking in air deeply before saying, "I really don't-"

"C'mon baby, you owe me!" Iris said in a cutesy whining voice.

Gabe raised an eyebrow. "How do I owe you, exactly?"

"Well, first of all you made me horny, rubbing your dick all over me," she started.

"Look-"

"Plus I helped walk you to the bathroom. I'm your protector! Kept all the men in this club off your gay little drunk ass."

"Ha ha," Gabe said bitterly.

"Look," Iris said, "no one could call letting me watch you piss cheating, right? It's not, like, a tongue kiss or something," and here she flashed a smug grin at him.

He looked down, feeling guilty over that kiss a few moments ago, feeling like resistance was futile... God, he really had already let Meg down. "Fine," he said, "but no touching, okay?"

"Sure thing baby," Iris said in this breezy tone that Gabe didn't trust at all.

In the bathroom, Gabe stood in front of the toilet with his pants unzipped, trying to let his erection go down before taking his cock out. Iris stood a few feet away, leaning against the wall, watching him with this curious horny expression on her face. "Whatcha waiting for?"

"My dick to go soft, so I can piss," Gabe grunted.

"Maybe it'll go soft faster if you take it out?" Iris offered. "Air in here is pretty cold you know."

Gabe hesitated a moment. It felt more sexual, more... exhibitionist to let her see his hardness, but it wasn't going soft in his pants, so he relented and unzipped his pants before pulling his cock out.